boys?”
We walked, Redheaded Beverly in between Napoleon and me.
“I think you just need to ignore it,” I said when we’d gone a silent half-block up Centre Street.
“I think you need to not ignore it,” Napoleon said quietly.
“No, I just think... It’s not really about you personally, right? I mean they really don’t like that long ride to school... you wouldn’t... I wouldn’t. Really, you can’t blame them, entirely.”
“Why can’t you?”
“If you knew them, that’s all. I know they sound like jerks, but... especially Jum, he’s not like that... they just don’t speak their minds real well.”
“Butch does,” Beverly said. “He speaks his mind very well. It’s just that there’s not much in there.”
With the added weight of Beverly’s brain it would be fairly ridiculous to argue that. “Okay. Butch. Butch can be, y’know... but if you take away Butch—”
“The problem remains,” Napoleon said. This time he didn’t sound like he was fighting. He sounded like he was despairing.
Napoleon simply shook his head, saying no more through the rest of the walk to the next bus stop where Beverly would be getting aboard for real. She looked at me. I shrugged and looked back. The bits of snow still lying around from last night’s blanketing were turning to crunch by the minute as the temperature dropped.
“It is so cold here,” Napoleon finally said.
“It will warm up eventually,” I said. “You learn not to feel the cold so much. Just like you learn not to be so stubborn, and not to listen to stuff. You’ll learn.”
“I will not,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want to talk about them anymore,” Beverly said. “The real reason I didn’t take the early bus even though I’m freezing my toes off, is I wanted to tell you that I think your father is incredible, Napoleon. He’s a real artist. And a performer.”
Napoleon looked at his feet.
“And really handsome,” she added.
Napoleon looked up. So did I.
“You must be very proud,” Beverly said.
“I must be,” he answered, and I believed I could see the first evidence of bashfulness out of Napoleon Charlie Ellis. He was always kind of reserved, but it was never the same as shyness or anything like that.
I liked it.
“Didn’t know you could be bashful,” I said.
“I am not,” he said, to his feet again.
“Leave him alone,” Beverly said, laughing a bit. She shoved me off the curb. “I bet you’d be bashful too, if anybody ever had a reason to compliment you. ”
I got back up to the curb. “I’m full of a lot of things, but bash ain’t one of ’em,” I said, and shoved her this time, into Napoleon.
He barely reacted, even though Redheaded Beverly knocked him off his straight and narrow and he had to have noticed since he was watching his feet so closely. He did manage a smile, though, even if he did try not to share it.
“My bus is coming,” Beverly said. “But also, I wanted to ask, are we on for this Saturday?”
Napoleon Charlie Ellis and Richard Riley Moncreif answered simultaneously.
“On what ?” said I.
“Certainly,” said he.
He and I looked at each other while Beverly enlightened us. “The youth symphony. It’s this Saturday morning, and you said you would go. Remember the bet?”
Rats, I thought. But I had to do better than that.
“Can’t. Napoleon and I have the batting cage booked for then.”
“We can cancel that,” he said. “The symphony would be grand.”
“Grand?”
“Cool,” Beverly said. “It’s at ten.”
The bus was almost there. She stepped off the curb.
“Beverlyyy,” I whined.
“You gave your word,” she said.
“So give it back,” I said.
She waved me off, disgusted. “If you really don’t want to go, Richard, I’m not going to force you. That would be pointless.”
“Dynamite,” I said. “Thanks, you’re a sport, Bev. Tell us all about it on Monday.”
“We will,” Napoleon said slyly.
“Dynamite!” Beverly said as she
We walked, Redheaded Beverly in between Napoleon and me.
“I think you just need to ignore it,” I said when we’d gone a silent half-block up Centre Street.
“I think you need to not ignore it,” Napoleon said quietly.
“No, I just think... It’s not really about you personally, right? I mean they really don’t like that long ride to school... you wouldn’t... I wouldn’t. Really, you can’t blame them, entirely.”
“Why can’t you?”
“If you knew them, that’s all. I know they sound like jerks, but... especially Jum, he’s not like that... they just don’t speak their minds real well.”
“Butch does,” Beverly said. “He speaks his mind very well. It’s just that there’s not much in there.”
With the added weight of Beverly’s brain it would be fairly ridiculous to argue that. “Okay. Butch. Butch can be, y’know... but if you take away Butch—”
“The problem remains,” Napoleon said. This time he didn’t sound like he was fighting. He sounded like he was despairing.
Napoleon simply shook his head, saying no more through the rest of the walk to the next bus stop where Beverly would be getting aboard for real. She looked at me. I shrugged and looked back. The bits of snow still lying around from last night’s blanketing were turning to crunch by the minute as the temperature dropped.
“It is so cold here,” Napoleon finally said.
“It will warm up eventually,” I said. “You learn not to feel the cold so much. Just like you learn not to be so stubborn, and not to listen to stuff. You’ll learn.”
“I will not,” he said firmly.
“I don’t want to talk about them anymore,” Beverly said. “The real reason I didn’t take the early bus even though I’m freezing my toes off, is I wanted to tell you that I think your father is incredible, Napoleon. He’s a real artist. And a performer.”
Napoleon looked at his feet.
“And really handsome,” she added.
Napoleon looked up. So did I.
“You must be very proud,” Beverly said.
“I must be,” he answered, and I believed I could see the first evidence of bashfulness out of Napoleon Charlie Ellis. He was always kind of reserved, but it was never the same as shyness or anything like that.
I liked it.
“Didn’t know you could be bashful,” I said.
“I am not,” he said, to his feet again.
“Leave him alone,” Beverly said, laughing a bit. She shoved me off the curb. “I bet you’d be bashful too, if anybody ever had a reason to compliment you. ”
I got back up to the curb. “I’m full of a lot of things, but bash ain’t one of ’em,” I said, and shoved her this time, into Napoleon.
He barely reacted, even though Redheaded Beverly knocked him off his straight and narrow and he had to have noticed since he was watching his feet so closely. He did manage a smile, though, even if he did try not to share it.
“My bus is coming,” Beverly said. “But also, I wanted to ask, are we on for this Saturday?”
Napoleon Charlie Ellis and Richard Riley Moncreif answered simultaneously.
“On what ?” said I.
“Certainly,” said he.
He and I looked at each other while Beverly enlightened us. “The youth symphony. It’s this Saturday morning, and you said you would go. Remember the bet?”
Rats, I thought. But I had to do better than that.
“Can’t. Napoleon and I have the batting cage booked for then.”
“We can cancel that,” he said. “The symphony would be grand.”
“Grand?”
“Cool,” Beverly said. “It’s at ten.”
The bus was almost there. She stepped off the curb.
“Beverlyyy,” I whined.
“You gave your word,” she said.
“So give it back,” I said.
She waved me off, disgusted. “If you really don’t want to go, Richard, I’m not going to force you. That would be pointless.”
“Dynamite,” I said. “Thanks, you’re a sport, Bev. Tell us all about it on Monday.”
“We will,” Napoleon said slyly.
“Dynamite!” Beverly said as she
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